Peacemaker
by 018019681356
Summary: A waitress of Armadillos Saloon seeks help in avenging her friends murder by Mo Van Bar of the Walton Gang. In search of redemption, can Jack Marston settle his fathers blood that flows in his veins? Reviews would be greatly appreciated.
1. The Lights of Beechers Hope

I could barely see, or hear, or think. It was as if the bullets were still spinning past me. They had gotten close this time, real close. They had chased me from county to county, until they grew tired or fearful as I crossed into West Elizabeth. I feared I had not seen the last of those men, and so I rode on into the darkness. Everything I had learnt from the Cheyenne's seemed to slip away from me in the dead of night, and I did not stop until I saw a soft light between the trees zipping past me. As I approached the settlement became clearer in my vision; noticing the fence I urged my mount forward with a tap from my spurs. My mount reared and whinnied, seemingly deterred by the tall wooden fence that stood up to her neck, ploughing her hooves into the ground she stirred violently to a stop, continuously prancing until I dismounted. Quite lost and alone, I led her around the perimeter until I could find a break in the fence. I did not hear the bear approach, I only felt its heavy paw smack me to the ground. As I fell I rolled under the fence and smacked my head against a cold rock. My vision slowed and blurred, slowed enough for me to watch the jaws of a bear encase my foot. I grasped at the handle of my Schofield Revolver and pulled the trigger relentlessly, fearful that the beast might steal my foot, all the while I screamed. Hooves smacked against the face of the bear and it released me from its beastly grasp. A roar reverberated in my ears, followed by the sudden squelch of footsteps charging toward me. The sound of gunfire became a symphony in my ears when I grew faint, and lay still from exhaustion or fright. I sighed and let my arm fall to my side, revolver still in hand.

"Oh sweet mother of mercy," a male voice spoke in a quiet southern drawl.  
"What happened, Marston?" I tried to speak, but only a mumble escaped my lips. Footsteps came jogging forward, the sound of spurs and the loading of guns accompanied their steps.  
"Oh nice of you to join us," retorted the gruff, rasping voice, "Crook try and grab the horse and put her in the barn, Colt make up the guest bed. Now!" he barked, lowering his voice as he leant towards me, almost whispering, "You're safe now, Miss, come on…"

*

"Mare's in the stables, I thought it best to bring her belongings in with us."  
"She has plenty of hay and water?"  
"Yup,"  
"And she's been dried off?"  
"Yup,"  
"Good man," The rasping voice spoke slowly, softly, "Colt, you look out for the boys now, will ya?"  
I felt the weight lift off my eyes, and cautiously looked around. The scent of golden current hung about the room lazily, the soft glow of the fire began awakening my senses. I inhaled deeply and groaned at the ache in my shoulder and the shooting pains in my leg. I was covered in a cold sweat, quiet shaken and bemused.  
"Relax Marston," The man named Colt looked out the window, tilting his head and resting his leg on an armchair.  
"Miss?" Marston looked into my eyes, removed his hat, and held it to his chest, "my name is Jack Marston, this here is my ranch. These here are my boys, Crook and Colt. It seems that horse of yours saved your life."  
"Jack?" My brow knitted together.  
"Take it easy now Miss," he said as I sat bolt upright.  
"You must be John's son then," I said as if I were speaking to myself.  
"Yes Miss," he was still crouched beside me.  
"I've been lookin' for your father," I groaned.  
Jack frowned and sat beside me, he spoke quietly, "Well unfortunately my father passed not long ago."  
"Oh, I'm sorry," I sighed, quite unsure of what to do, I shook my head. I felt dizzy and weak, though my sweat began to cool off.  
"Leone and James are here," Colt stated, as he stared out of the window. Crook slid the bolt from the back door, walked into the living room and smacked Colts boot off the armchair. Crook sat down and lit his pipe, he eyed me with curiosity or lust. I shivered, uncomfortable under his stare.  
"Well well well, looky here we have company," A tall man, slimly built and dressed entirely in black - bar his tan leather waistcoat and shirt - walked in, hanging up his hat he looked straight at me with darling blue eyes that hid beneath a dirty blonde mane; he wore spurs that sung as he walked and a simple brown belt, buckled tightly around his middle.  
"Pleased to meet yaw, Ma'am," he extended his hand, and when I placed mine in his, he brought it to his lips and kissed it, "Leone," he winked.  
Jack sighed as if to expect any different and watched as Leone retreated to the armchair diagonally opposite and struck a match against the fireplace to light his cigarette. He watched me through the smoke. His blue eyes pierced the cloud that puffed from his mouth. The door slammed shut and the bolt was drawn. My head snapped to my left to see a young man, no older than twenty five walk in wearing a light blue shirt and a dirty brown bandana that matched the likes of his trousers and boots. He smiled at me cheerfully,  
"Hiya!" he waved, "James Brooks," he looked like quite a character. He held a repeater carbine in his left hand the entirety of the conversation.  
I nodded in reply.  
"And what is it, that we should call you, little sis?" The man named Colt asked from beneath his thick, bushy moustache. Crook, who looked strikingly similar sat beside him. Their almost black eyes and black hair stirred a sense of familiarity in me. I _had_ seen those two somewhere before.  
"What's it to you?" I turned to face him slowly with narrowed eyes and a cocked head.  
"Oh, feisty one 'ere gents," Leone managed to laugh with a cigarette stuck to his lip, his right leg lifted onto the chair, his right arm smoothing his moustache. They laughed - Jack cleared his throat, and brought his attention back to me.  
"May I?" he pointed, "Sure," I said. He removed his leather duster, flinging it over the arm of the couch, and ripped a strip of fabric from the arm of his shirt. He continued casually, and wrapped the cloth around my shoulder, making sure he pulled it tight. He looked into my eyes and quickly looked away as he secured the cloth.  
"Seen as you had business with his father, best you speak up and tell us your name now," Colt said.  
"You're right, forgive me," I smiled and looked at Jack, "Scarlet,"  
Silence. With that Crook stepped forward and slowly paced toward me with a mix of fear and curiosity. "You," He pointed his finger at me. His left hand tucked underneath his belt. Jack stiffened, clearly aware of Crooks disposition.  
"Don't you point that at a Lady," Jack spoke with a stern discomfort. Crook blindly ignored him, too engrossed in my presence.  
"You're The Scarlet Lady?"

*

"Is that what they's callin' me?" I asked, Crooks face was disturbingly familiar, I shook my head in frustration, "What about you, where have I seen you from?"  
"Well me?" He said, pointing at his chest, a smug grin on his face. He laughed gruffly, patting himself on the chest. His waistcoat was a filthy brown, as he patted it dust flew from its fabric.  
"Well I ran with the Williamson Gang," his eyes were wide. His facial expression made him look mad. Maybe he was mad.  
"Crook, right? How is it you ain't still in the Williamson Gang?" I squinted, and spoke with heavy sarcasm, make sure to emphasize each syllable.  
His smile dropped, a dark menacing straight line of lips set in its place.  
"My fellow gang members done got killed," he said, tittering backwards towards his seat, "me and Colt's too smart for 'em anyways," he gestured as he sat. Suddenly my memory struck and I spoke without thought.  
"You's two the Hardin brothers, you's wanted from here to Escalera!" I exclaimed, fearful I was in the presence of bad men.  
"Hey now Ma'am, don't you worry 'bout nothin', these boys goin' straight, we's working on this ranch so as we can pay their bounty ourselves," Jack said. I was not so sure and stood up suddenly, forgetting my injuries of the past hour. My leg buckled, though I was swiftly caught by Jack, pains shot up my leg and my face crumpled. I felt faint and the cold sweat began to cling to my skin once more.  
"Whoa there," Jack held me up with his right arm and led me toward the nearest bedroom, "come on Ma'am, let's get you cleaned up. You'll be sleeping in the master bedroom tonight," a series of quiet laughter bubbled from behind me, Jack turned his head to face the men, "alone," he stated, looking straight at what must have been the Hardin brothers, "somebody get the whisky and lend me a hand!"  
I hobbled into the master bedroom and set myself down on the bed, carefully launching my legs on top of the covers. Leone walked in, the sloshing of a whisky bottle complementing the song of his spurs. His cigarette was still stuck against his lips.  
"This may hurt," his dark brown eyes looked into mine for confirmation, I nodded. Hastily I looked away as he pulled off my boot. The sliding leather caused a plethora of pain, which caused me to grimace and grasp my thigh with white knuckles. My body shook, every ache and pain was magnified and I fell backwards onto the bed, resting my head against the pillow. He placed it on the floor and gestured for the whisky. He began dabbing down my wound with a handkerchief.  
"I don't know how I'm gonna get these men now, boys," I sighed. Jack looked up at Leone, who returned his glance with a knitted brow and a mouthful of smoke.  
"What men?" he held the cigarette between two fingers, his big blue eyes set on me.  
"Mo Van Barr of the Walton gang, and a few others, if I can take 'em down for a bounty I will," I winced, the whisky stung like a son of a b-  
"So you's a bounty hunter?" Leone cocked an eyebrow, inhaling.  
"I wouldn't quite say that," I pursed my lips and looked up at him through my lashes, "more of a no good outlaw,"  
Leone laughed a throaty laugh, smoking pouring from his mouth, "Well Ma'am I'll be sure to stay away from you in the future,"  
"Awh now don't keep promises you can't keep," I smiled and winked. As he held his cigarette to his lips he chuckled into the smoke.  
Jack finished bandaging my wound and rose, crossed his arms and said: "Do not worry about the Hardins,"  
He did not ask any questions about my business with his father, out of pain or pride he kept quiet.  
I nodded, "Forgive me for my ignorance but, why is it you's keepin' 'em here when, if I'm not wrong, they's was in your fathers old gang?"  
Jack looked down into his crossed arms, "Spose they's more like family to me, growin' up with outlaws and what not."  
"I see," I said and looked down, I had grown tired mighty fast and yawned.  
"We'll get you to the doctors as soon as you're up tomorrow, we'll talk about my fathers business when you're rested, alright? ". Jack gestured to Leone who reluctantly walked towards the door, Jack smacked Leone on the back of the neck as they reached the door and playfully shoved him outside, a mumbled complaint came from the living room.  
"I don't mean to be such trouble to you boys,"  
"Ain't no trouble, Scarlet, ain't no trouble."


	2. McDougal, Doctor of Blackwater

I had risen with the skylarks. The warm summer rays of the sun woke me gently and the night had taken away most of my pain, though I ached none the less. I sat up, stretched and swung my legs out of the bed to find my satchel of clothes and effects by the bedside. I picked it up and began rooting through its contents to see what I could wear to the doctors. _Knock knock_.  
"Good morning," I called, and with that Jack entered with a smile on his face, he leant on the doorknob as he spoke,  
"Good morning Miss," he nodded his head curtly, "breakfast is in five minutes," and with that he leant backwards and pulled the door to. I changed my clothes as quickly as possible. I pulled on a loose green top and a dark brown skirt, secured it with a thick black belt and stood up and tried to get my balance. I hobbled to the vanity and brushed through my wayward brown hair. I let it lay loose around my shoulders, in thick wavy curls. Outside I heard the clattering of a cart and the protesting whinny of a horse. Colt and Crook must have been up for some time; when I opened the curtain a wagon sat waiting for its passengers, with five sacks of corn propped up against it. Just as I had waddled to the door with an outstretched hand, Jack knocked and entered, taken back that I was standing just inches away from him. He laughed and offered his arm for support. I took it and 'walked' with him to the kitchen. He sat me down at the head of the table, opposite him, with a small bowlful of oats in front of me. Colt and Crook sat to my right, seemingly grumpier in the mornings. James Brooks and Leone sat to my left. Leone's head shot upwards to look at me, his mouth hung open for a millisecond, and he quickly patted down his clothing and smiled. It was amusing to see how disorientated he was this morning. Colt chuckled into his oats. James Brooks sat happily and drank his coffee, having already eaten his breakfast and continued a polite conversation with Jack and I until everyone had finished. I had eaten either well or fast, though noting the portions of Colts oats earlier it seemed he had taken it upon himself to eat most of the supply. James Brooks snatched up everyone's plates and practically skipped to what must have been his room to fetch his repeater carbine.  
"Hardin brothers, you stay behind, you know the rules, James Brooks, Leone, Scarlet and I will be back from Blackwater in an hour or so, behave." Jack warned half-heartedly, "James Brooks you come help me load up those sacks now, Leone, be a gentleman now and walk our dear guest to the wagon. Let's go."  
With that the boys scattered. Leone rose eagerly and pulled me against him, using his right arm to support me he walked me outside. The sun was warm, bright, lovely. As I sat down Leone whispered into my ear, his moustache brushed against my cheek: "You look lovely today." I blushed at his remark. I hauled myself next to the corn with a perky and well armed James Brooks. He sat on the edge of the wagon with his repeater, lest anyone try to steal their stock. As soon as I was comfortable, Leone sat himself next to Jack at the front of the wagon, and with the crack of the reins and a "hiyaw!" we clattered into Blackwater.

*

"You need to rest up about five to eight weeks, ma'am."  
"Five ta eight weeks? Ain't you got no ointment or nothin'?"  
He laughed, a nervous, shaky laugh, scribbling the bill. "Well ma'am I have, you apply this, t-twice daily for two weeks and that should clear away any infection."  
With that he rose from behind his desk, a flimsy piece of paper in hand. "You're lucky the wound isn't too deep," he said, he jittered. He was a most peculiar man whose skin was pale, pasty. His arms and eye lids looked bruised, and he wore gold rimmed glasses that sat almost on the edge of his nose. Jack was outside talking to a man in a top hat and tails.  
_"Just if you've got the time, friend..."_

Jack nodded and paced toward the door and leant on the frame, arms folded, looking at the floorboards, his father's hat sat proudly on his head.  
"How are things, Doc?"  
"Ah superb, er a-how's the ranch?" he chuckled, "Oh er, do call me McDougal."  
"Doin' good, McDougal, doin' good. Got some new cattle in, things are lookin' up this season."  
"I'm g-glad to hear it, Marston," McDougal slapped him on the back.  
"I'll take care of this, thank you McDougal, we'll be back Monday with yer payment,"  
I smiled sheepishly at Jack, who looking at the bill gave no indication of its sum. He tucked it in his pocket.  
"Thank you," I said quietly.  
He gestured and politely invited Jack in. Jack patted him on the shoulder, and walked towards me with an open hand. I took it and walked out with him onto the busying cobbled streets of Blackwater. It was a small town with high intentions. Men and women walked about in fine clothing and police officers stood on street corners casually chatting to the towns folk. Businessmen in suits and business men in aprons were scattered about the town, staring at their pocket watches, wanting time to pass or time to stop. Here, I was an outlaw, in more ways than one.  
"Who was that man you was talkin' too, he looked mighty well to do," I said,  
"Truth be told I ain't too sure..." Jack said and squinted, he searched the street for Leone and James Brooks, who were approaching with the sound of laughter, "an old family friend I suppose – real odd - said he knew my Pa. Said he knew my Pa all too well and that he was glad I was helping you out. Thought you might know him."  
He turned towards me, and I shook my head. Leone and James Brooks tipped their hats and nodded toward the wagon.  
"Ready?" Leone plucked an already rolled cigarette from his pocket, offering one to Jack, who sighed and lit up.  
I nodded toward the new rifle stationed on his back. "What make is that?"  
"Winchester," he said through a cloud of smoke, "you'd better be careful little Missy or it'd knock you on your pretty little backside,"  
"The only thing that's gon' be knockin' me on my backside is a man and there seems to be a sure shortage of those about these parts," I scowled and sat myself in the back of the now empty wagon, ready to settle matters with Jack at the ranch. Jack laughed and talked with Leone and James Brooks until Leone finished his cigarette and went about the front of the wagon with James Brooks. Jack, it seemed, was tired and unsure. I had not known him long but hearing of his father's tales created an impression of the poor fella that one couldn't shake off. It seemed Jack was torn between the love of his homestead and the blood in his veins. Looking through the side of the wagon, Jack was veiled in a cloud of smoke - and for a second I swore I saw his father instead of him.

*

"Can you heard cattle?" Colt Hardin of the Hardin brothers asked. We had not long ago returned from the ranch when Jack called a meeting of all of its workers to decide how I was to pay off the doctor's bill due to my insistence on the matter. It was noon and the Hardin brothers had already started drinking –from pain or boredom I do not know.  
"I can heard cattle, I ca-"  
"Well then! There ya go, Jack." Colt snorted, he sat in the armchair by the piano, Crook standing beside him. Irked, I continued.  
"I can heard cattle, I can break horses, I can hunt and skin and shoot a man in the head from three hundred yards."  
Leone scoffed, "Now I'll believe that when I see it," the Hardin brothers chortled, but Jack stood with his arms crossed, leant against the fireplace. James Brooks sat on the edge of his seat beside me, clearly excited at such a hooraw.  
"Well then Mr. Leone, best you keep your eyes open, I wouldn't want you missin' such a sight."  
Leone looked sore. James Brooks laughed into his bandana, he was enjoying this far too much.  
"Well since you need to be restin' up I don't think you should be doing any work at all Ma'am," Jack said, as he removed his father's hat and smoothed his moustache with the back of his leathered hand, "but, since you're so hell bent on it, I suppose you can help patrol the ranch." He said with a half-smile, "as you get better, I'm sure there's a few more things you can do for us but for now I want you on patrol, nothing more."  
"Thank you, Mr. Marston, though I do wish you'd call me Scarlet."  
"Leone, you can walk Miss Scarlet through patrol tonight."  
"Say, Miss Scarlet," James Brooks nodded in my direction, "How long do you think its gon' take for that wound of yours to heal?"  
"Doc said five to eight weeks, right Mr. Marston?" He nodded.  
"Five to eight weeks?" He exclaimed.  
"That's what I first thought," I sighed, "At that rate I ain't never gon' catch them cretins."  
Jack sighed, his hand tucked into his ranchers pants. Each time I saw his face, it grew more and more rugged and callous.  
"I'll see what I can do, Miss" he scratched the back of his head.  
"You're gon' help me, Mr. Marston?"  
"Like I said Miss, I'll see what I can do," Jack stood gruffly, with his arms crossed and his head lowered.  
"You're a mighty fine man, Jack Marston," I smiled and held out my hand.  
He shook my hand and laughed.  
"There's only room for one hero in this family, I guess it's about my time," he paused, "Now I think you boys know how to look after a ranch by now, don't ya?" Jack looked to Colt and Crook, Crook looked furious. Damn whisky drinkin' fool.  
"All by our God damn selves? What are you fuckin'crazy Marston?" Crook spat. His eyes were wild.  
"Hey now, don't you forget who took you in when you were hungry and homeless," Leone said, nodding toward Jack.  
"Well that means shit all now don't it! Looks like we's just gonna end up hungry again with Jack off with this wretchin' whore!"  
By this time he was pacing, and at that remark Leone stood up, the cowboys blue eyes burning.  
"Do not push me Crook Hardin, of the Hardin Brothers, I am this close to claiming your bounty myself," His warm Texas accent slurred over the words.  
"Gentlemen, I implore you to stop this," Jack rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and smoothed his moustache. He scratched his beard, "Crook, I think it best you apologise."

"I ain't done a God damn thing wrong," he muttered, his dark hair hung over his eyes. The whisky sure had dumbed him down, made him twice as stupid which I thought was near impossible as it was.  
Jack laughed and shuffled his feet, as he looked down his leathered hand wandered to the handle of his father's gun, "I think you've had far too much whisky Crook Hardin, of the Hardin brothers, settle down and apologise or I won't be responsible for my actions."  
His father's blood was boiling in his veins.  
Crook grimaced. Colt nudged him. He ran a dirty hand through his greasy hair and muttered an apology.  
"Now," Jack said, pointing at them with leather fingers, "you'll do just fine without us. The pasture is full and thick, the cows are fine and fat, the horses are tamed and the beasts are straying from out door, I say we take full advantage of that."  
Colt looked from Crook to Jack, and nodded. "Yes Sir,"  
"Now gentlemen, if you'll excuse us," Jack gestured toward the kitchen and held out a hand for me. Once we were alone, I smacked my hands together, enthused.  
"So, how's we gon' get these murderin' bastards?"


	3. Waging War on the Walton Gang

"Well, what is it you know?"  
"I don't know much, all I know is what's right and what's wrong," I stated. Jack sent me out on patrol with Leone. Jack insisted I patrol the ranch while he tried to talk sense in to the Hardin Brothers. Leone, who sat all too proudly on his horse with his new Winchester repeater on his back, plucked out a small metal container which held a line of cigarettes neatly stood waiting to be smoked.  
"What them boys done to my girl ain't right. That I know." I shook my head, and scratched at my chin, picking a cigarette from Leones extended fingers and sticking it in between my lips.  
"They're a rough lot," he lit a match, lit his cigarette and passed it to me.  
"You don't need to tell me that," I said, inhaling. We walked on for a few minutes in silence until Leone sighed and said:  
"It is at least a four man job takin' 'em down,"  
"Is that what I'm supposed to tell Mr. Marston?"  
"I ain't sure what you're supposed to tell Marston."  
"Well you're supposed to be his friend, ain't ya?"  
"Ah, shucks no, he's alright but we ain't good friends," smoke poured out of his mouth as he spoke. His body swayed with the waddle of the horse, "I'm here with my boy James Brooks on a social call, Jack and James Brooks met a couple months ago playin' a game of Poker down at Theives Landing. Big competition on this month and James Brooks ain't one to miss a big competition," he took another drag and looked at me, gesturing with the cigarette in-between the fingers of his left hand, "what you gone tell him then?"  
"If he's anything like his father, from what I've heard he sure as hell can handle it."  
"Well there's your problem, Ma'am, he ain't nothin' like his father, least he never used to be. He's angry at the world now, he's lost, he's confused he ain't go no Mother nor Father, he's a lost boy. He don't know what to do."  
I sighed, "Guess he's in need of a little guidance then,"  
Leone flicked his cigarette onto the ground and squinted at me, "You ain't really gon' let him do this, are you Ma'am?"  
I hung my head, "No, I don't spose I am."

Leone and I completed the patrol and rode back to the barn. Leone helped me dismount and took the horses from me, removing their saddles as I took off their bridles.  
"Colt will see to them, come on now Ma'am," he offered his arm as I hobbled back to the ranch, James Brooks tittered and joined us. Leone clapped James Brooks on the back and began joking as I readied myself to tell Jack what my revenge truly entailed.

As we entered, Leone nodded and Colt rose from his seat to attend to the horses. Jack smiled at me, looking up from his book, his feet on the couch. A pang of guilt smacked me in the stomach. I sat down in the arm chair closest to him, Leone sat by the fireplace. James Brooks walked to the kitchen.  
"Jack," I said softly as he placed his book on the coffee table and his feet firmly on the ground, "I can't let ya go after these men,"  
"Why's that, Miss Scarlet?" It was clear his father's blood had cooled since the argument with Crook Hardin, of the Hardin Brothers, and lay dormant in his veins as his eyes wondered over a thick, leather bound book.  
I scratched my chin and looked at him from beneath my hat, "they are a ruthless bunch. They will shoot us dead as soon as we so much look at them,"  
Jack nodded, his reasoning ticking over in his mind, "two men cannot take on an entire gang,"  
"Precisely," I did not know much, all I knew was the chances of this panning out started to look slimmer by the second.  
Jack stood up, his novel in his hands, and his father's hat off the coffee table, he called to Crook Hardin of the Hardin Brothers as he placed the book back into its slot in a lengthy bookshelf that stood solemnly in the corner of his ranch. Crook Hardin, of the Hardin Brothers scuffled along the floor, hauling himself into the living room, his face blackened from gunpowder and oil. He was wiping his hands down with a dirtied rag,  
"Yes Marston?"  
Jack placed the thick, rich leather hat onto his head, "Fetch Colt and James Brooks, I have a proposition for you,"  
Jack began pacing, quietly, slowly.  
"Who is it you're after, Miss?"  
"Mo Von Barr of the Walton Gang," I grimaced and leant forward on my knees, resting my chin in my hand, looking up towards the young Jack Marston.  
"And how many gang members are there, roughly?"  
"Eight, exactly," I said, "their leader's dead but they're still functionin' as far as I'm aware."  
"The bounty," he looked up from his pacing, his index finger leaving his chin and resting on his holster, "how much?"  
I sat upright, the Hardin Brothers walked in looking worse for wear, a slightly inebriated looking James Brooks following close behind, I looked back up to Jack.  
"Collectively over $800."

"Crook Hardin, of the Hardin brothers," Jack spoke loudly, his once childish voice deepening began to maintain a grit, "how much is your bounty?"  
Crook Hardin of the Hardin Brothers shifted from one foot to the other, "You..you ain't gon' hand us in now are ya, Jack?" he seemed to be contemplating violence or cowardice. Shooting or running seemed to be the only two options running through his head.  
"Nah Crook, I ain't doin' nothing like that,"

Leone removed his tan hat and scratched his forehead. He pulled out his cigarette tin. Jack clicked his fingers at Leone and continued, "could I have a cigarette, partner?"  
Leone looked up at Jack, his blue eyes seemed bemused and taken a back, he placed a cigarette in his mouth and muttered "course Jack," he picked a ready rolled one and threw it to Jack who caught it in a clap. He struck a match, lighting Jacks then his, before tossing it into the fire.  
"Thanks," Jack took a long seductive drag and held it between his fingers as he spoke, "how much is your bounty?"  
Colt perked up, "$190. Each."  
Jack laughed a thoaty laugh into the smoke.  
"I think I know what you're up to, Jack Marston," Leone said with a grin.

"We chase after these outlaws gentlemen, we can pay off your bounty in one swift payment. We got the guns, we got the horses, all we need is a plan, which is why we need you Miss,"  
"So you's tellin' me...you's gonna pay off an outlaws bounty with another outlaws bounty?"  
Jack opened his arms and grinned, "Welcome to the West, where the lyin' cheatin' degenerate prospers," he nodded and inhaled, "my Pa taught me that."  
Leone and James Brooks looked besides themselves, lost for words. They chuckled, astonished at the sudden turn of cunning Jack Marston encompassed.  
"Well what of my money in this? I asked for your help so I'll split it fair but I expect a fair share Jack Marston, I am to see to it that this man is slain for his crimes, as long as I get a pretty penny out of it I do not care which way."  
"Do not worry about it, you will have your share. Now, where is it this gang hides out Miss?" He looked sideways at me from beneath his fathers hat, resting his hand on his belt of bullets.

"Now I'm no fool Jack Marston, I want a 60% share of the bounty."  
"35."  
"40"  
"Deal," he extended his hand. I smiled and shook it.

"Last time they were seen was Armadillo. Rumour has it they are lodging there while a new sheriff is appointed, tryin' to intimidate some of the locals I imagine."

He stood, absorbing the information. "Good. We'll make it in one journey, one smooth sweep." He gestured, cigarette in hand. "Right, this is what we're gonna do..."

*

We decided to ride the railroad and out to maintain the element of surprise. Jack would telegraph an old associate at Armadillo, Leigh Johnson for any new information on the gang. Finally the discussion closed, and the Hardin Brothers were to join Jack, Leone, James Brooks and I on the second day of our venture to tie up any loose ends at the ranch before bringing fresh supplies, clothes and a new batch of horses. Until then, I had at least another week at Marstons family ranch, Beechers Hope, and while that week passed, I looked forward to sleeping well, knowing the murderous bunch would be bought to justice. And with that sweet thought in mind, I slept long and hard for a good eight hours.

A knuckle rapped at my door. I rose slowly, stretching, I called softly:  
"I'll be just a minute."  
I was late for my ranch work.  
"Are you decent?" Leone's gritty voice asked in a lowered tone, a lowered tone oozing with curiosity.  
"I er," I threw myself out of bed recklessly stumbling on my swollen foot, bashing into the bed side table, "I'll just be a minute," I hobbled hurriedly to the dress of draws, throwing my hands out in front of me as I lost my balance. I landed with a soft thud on the dresser. "Damn!" I cursed. A soft chuckle eminated from behind the door.  
"You er, you've said that twice now Ma'am,"

"Have a little patience," I muttered to myself as I pulled out my faithful dark green blouse and brown skirt, walking backwards to the bed, sitting on the edge and slipping the skirt over my undergarments.  
"Say, Ma'am,"  
"Please, call me Scar," I looked around for my belt.  
"Say," he paused, "say Ma'am," as if he couldn't muster one syllable, "where is it you come from?"  
"Why, I come from Fort Smith," pausing, I pulled the strings on my corset a little tighter before pulling the green blouse over my head and slipping on my brown leather boots. "Where is it you come from?"  
"I come from Austin, Texas, Ma'am,"  
"I see," I brushed out my curls in the mirror, and secured my hair back with a single yellow ribbon into a neat ponytail, "that explains your unfathomable fortitude."  
"You ain't seen none of my unfathomable fortitude yet," I leant on the dresser and looked in the mirror. I laughed to myself. Straightening up and brushing down my clothes I walked to the door as best I could without hobbling. As I yanked open the door, a cigarette free, tan Leone leant against the frame, his one leg tucked behind his ankle, leaning entirely to his left, the brim of his hat touching the wood of the door frame.  
"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" I smiled, looking him straight in the eyes. Laughing he swung away from the door frame and walked me towards the kitchen of the ranch, stroking his moustache before speaking, "say, Ma'am,"  
"Say, I have a feelin' I know where this conversation is goin'," I chuckled as I entered the kitchen, he swaggered in before, pulling out my chair and sitting next to me, shuffling forward, closer to me.

"Say, you ever been huntin'?"  
"Sure," Colt and Crook Hardin walked in gruffly, shortly followed by a chuckling James Brooks and Jack Marston.

"Well good afternoon sunshine," Crook looked down at me. Jack coughed at Crooks remark as James Brooks sat opposite me, when Crook sat down and shut up Jack continued to stir whatever lay in his big black cooking pot.

I dismissed him by turning back to Leone, who continued unaffected, "ever been bear huntin'?"

"Once or twice, why? What you gettin' at?"

Jack tapped the ladle against the pot and began serving up our lunch.  
Leone looked down and chortled, removing his hat, shifting his chair to face inwards and placing it under the table, "'Cos word at Manzanita Hut is there's a sudden uprise and wantin' for bear skin, and just as it happens, we're all in need of extra cash."

At that moment Jack placed a bowl of soup, consisting of heaven knows what in front of me,  
"Thank you, Jack, do forgive me for sleepin' in, rest assured I shall make it up to you."  
"Do not worry about it Miss," he trundled back and forth a couple of times, serving the boys, "I imagine you were just catchin' up on what you needed, you sleep well?"  
"Very well, thank you, I'll be up and ready for my duties Monday mornin',"  
"Okay Miss." Jack settled down at the opposite end of the table, "let us say grace."

Colt spoke surprisingly softly, "Bless this food to our use, and us to thy service, and make us ever mindful of the needs of others. Amen."  
"Amen," everyone chanted, the Hardin brothers eagerly digging in despite its rustic taste, "Jack?"  
I spoke up, ignored by the Hardin brothers but acknowleged by all others, "if you don't mind me askin', what's in this?"  
"Er," he chewed, "carrots, corn and the last of the beef."  
I nodded and took another spoonful, continuing conversation with Leone, "So, bear huntin'?"  
"Yurp, bear huntin' this Wednesday ain't we, Jack?"  
Jack nodded, apparently too hungry to talk.

"Well, if you would consider huntin' down a goat I'd make you boys some mutton and vegetable stew? Seen as I can't do much work around here, I gotta make myself useful somehow."  
"That'd be great Scar," James Brooks chirped, the only male of the bunch unafraid to call me by my nickname, "really would help ol' Jack here out."  
"Sure." I smiled and continued to eat, receiving a grateful smile off James Brooks and Leone in reference to a stubborn Jack Marston's pride to ask for help .


End file.
